Caste System
by Prinny Ramza
Summary: T for Language, gun violence and some blood. It is time for two worlds to meet. Explore everything about the magical world. The squibs, the muggle borns and how they're affect us.


**Hey the names Prinny Ramza and while this isn't my first fanfic, I am still fairly new to this. My previous works are one-shots or I gave up not after too long. I hope to break that record with this story. I also want to improve my writing as my other stories haven't really been up to par of what I believe I can do. Though I believe I could do a better start. I give you the first chapter of this story.**

**I was inspired to do this because of my frustration that there were little to no muggle centered Harry Potter fics. Most of which is written have wizards showing they're superiority while muggles kind of bumble around afraid. While fear is reasonable, I wanted to show that humans without magic aren't mice. And besides muggles, I want to be able to explore other aspects like squibs and the aftermath of the first wizarding war. I also want to try my hand at some of the Harry Potter characters. For example, most stories I've read either bash or ignore Ron. I will explore how it would be to have all those siblings and feel ignored by not only his family and everyone around him will be a big part of his character in this story. The rest, I've haven't quite figured out. Thought about making Luna a little ax crazy for laughs. Decided against it for now, but I might change my mind. Please enjoy.**

* * *

**Caste System  
By Prinny Ramza  
**  
He slowly lifted the case file in front of the light, hoping that maybe some secret code would be revealed to him. Some answer. No one dies of nothing.

Two fingers and a thumb pinched the skin of his forehead. No one just dies. There was always something. It had to be something, but everything was checked out, and as he shifted through the other reports he found nothing, just the usual clues.

"Mr Yorks?" The question rang through his ears causing his heart to jump, his to widen and his whole body to swift to the direction of the man he had just entered the room. He looked so much younger than he had expected, he must had just been hired, but Simon Campbell did look presentable, impressive almost.

He stood completely straight, his suit was presentable. His eyes traveled, but not in a normal pattern, it seemed like he constantly surveilling his surroundings. He was experience, more than you could tell at first glance. Yorks could tell that much. Yorks stood and smile. He was staring before; he didn't want to appear rude.

"The American" He grabbed the man's hand. "Hope it wasn't too bad of a flight". "It was quite relaxing actually" his smile carried some charisma behind it.

"It's not every day you can fly first class" He tilt his head, hinting at a man that Yorks had until now been ignoring. "Plus my friend here enjoyed the in-flight feature film, didn't you Bane?" The large man beside of him nodded and smile.

Campbell's friend and coworker was a little more intimidating than he was and it made Yorks nervous. Yorks was a small man, in fact Campbell nearly stood a head over him, so to Yorks, the agent, or Bane as Simon had informed him, was a giant.

He also seemed to have none of the social grace, Simon had. The man's suit was wrinkled; his facial hair was in a good need of a trim. Even his smile, bright behind his black skin and beard was disturbed by several silver fillings.

"It's is a pleasure" you could practically hear a puddle of sweat form around Yorks as he trembled. "I heard a lot of good things about the two of you" he looked between the two men as he went to shake Bane's hand.

"Aw, ain't that sweet, they lied just for us" he pushed forward, knocking down Yorks wandering hand. "I told you they liked us" Randall seemed to laugh at himself which led to a quick unsatisfying chuckle from Simon.

Yorks stared at Randall, trying to obviously read him like you would an eye chart, but Yorks found that he couldn't penetrate the man's soulless grin. A light coughing sound from Campbell was the only push Yorks needed to continue forward. "So, I can trust that you've been informed about why you've been sent here" he preferred to talk to Campbell.

"Multiple Mass Murders, late at night, no suspects" Reciting it as if it was on the back of the cereal box. He rolled his eyes.

"Lots of people are dead" The giant giggled. "Lots of people" he confirmed, before mumbling nonsense to himself.

Yorks gazed at the two men before slowly nodding "Than this will be a review".

* * *

"Mom" rang out through the household, doors swung open as they came in contact with the little girl. When they opened, she would wander into a room and upon realizing that she was still alone, she huffed and did a 180 out, swinging around her twin pigtails, and the necklace she held in her hand.

"Mom" She was almost tired of listening to her own cries. She was instantly in a motion. Open door, shout, spin, leave. She was so focused that she almost fall over when meant with the locked bathroom door.

"Mom?" The little girl tried to turn the doorknob, but it was stuck. "Mom?" She gently knocked on it, but there was no response.

"I'm getting ready" A nervous cry came from beyond the door. "Sarah" the little girl's eyes lit up, as she eagerly listened. "Are you dressed?" the little girl was wearing a pink blouse with a jean jacket.

"Yes mom!" she shouted a little bit more than what was necessary, but there was no way for her to tell if her mom heard her clearly or not. "I need help with my necklace!" she brought up her knuckle in order to sound no one other than the door. The necklace dangled in a metronome pattern before losing momentum.

"Sarah" The nervous cries of her mother was once again heard. "Go to your dad, honey". The girl glared at the door, wondering if something was wrong with her mother, but decided to ignore that thought and instead persuade her mom. "Dad's still isn't ready" There was a good ten second pause before the door opened, her mother in a red sleeveless dress. She put her palm in front of her and her daughter responded by giving her the necklace.

The mother stroked it with the side of her thumb. It was currently her daughter's favorite piece of jewelry. Her husband gave it to her on her tenth birthday last week. A silver dragon nesting on top of a rainbow colored opal stone. Her daughter turned around, allowing her to slip the chain around her neck and hook it.

Her daughter turned back, admired the necklace and smiled brightly at her mom. "Now don't you look nice" Her lips curved upwards as she took a moment to look at her daughter. "Now, watch the telly" She patted her daughters back, leading her to the living room. "I have to find out what's keeping your father so busy".

* * *

Gabe Reynold was an engineer and he would work on anything he could fit in his basement, but as of now he wasn't working on anything. He was at his desk, his thick reading glasses on. A desk lamp was the only light on, allowing him to read. "Gabe" The upstairs door cracked open, his wife was in a sleeveless dress. The red one she brought just for the party tonight.

"Laverne, is it time already?" He stood up, turning over a piece of paper on the desk, making sure that she couldn't read it. He nearly tripped over himself but his chair caught him and he started to use it as a crutch.

"We're going to be late" the wife glared at her husband. He knew that she wasn't actually mad at him through. She was a little rough around the edges, but she knew that he lost track of time when he got into his work.

"Sorry" He scratched behind his right ear, he opened a draw in his desk, slipping the same sheet of paper into the drawer.

"Is Sarah ready?" He tried to direct attention to his daughter upstairs.

"We're waiting for you" she stared him down.

He scratched behind his chin with the knuckle of his pointer finger. "Alright" he let out a deep sigh.

"Guess I should be getting dressed. I'll be right up" He knew when he was beaten. He just had to deal with the relatives and family friends and grin the whole way through.

"Go ahead, I just have to clean up a bit" He looked around, there wasn't much, but there was definitely enough to use as an excuse. His wife started to close back the door and he started to tidy up in order to convince her.

He reopened the drawer and slipped out the letter. He pitched it with the tips of his fingers. He read each word so carefully. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" he whispered to himself.

* * *

"Fuck" Have you ever experience the taste of dirt first thing in the morning? Have you had to deal with a sharp pain in the back of your head and a blank state whenever you tried to recollect what happened to you last night?

Jim has, but that was usually after late night partying. This was a little different; he was alone and in the middle of some woods.

Okay, maybe this has happen to him before, but he knew something had happen; his video camera was right next to him.

He wouldn't bring one of his babies to a party unless something worth wild had happened. Like if Christine was there, man she was smoking and she usually got pissed so quickly that he could- Well that's a story for another time.

Great, the lens was broken –damn it. He made a high pitch whining sound similar to a hurt mammal. He switched it on. There was nothing and the good times that he had with that camera flashed right before his eyes. He would have a memorial for it, invite a couple of friends and they would have a proper burial for it.

He fell into his van. From where he was to where he had to go was a good five mile walk. Never again! He rolled over, sitting on the floor, his legs hanging out the doorway. He fanned himself with his cap and continued to blow out hot air. He coughed and spat on the ground.

Getting up from the floor, he slid into the chair at his desk. "Okay, let's see what we got". Looting his fallen ally's body felt a little wrong, but you know what they say, 'you can't take it with you'. He pulled the mini DV out of the camera and slipped it into his video deck.

He couldn't expect anything. After several months traveling it was no wonder. Don't misunderstand; he is a true believer in the supernatural. Bigfoot, UFOs and mysterious happenings is what he's all about and he aimed to find them all, but there was only so much a guy could take before he stops expecting much. You can't be disappointed if you didn't have high expectations. He wasn't going to be disappointed this time around.

* * *

Harry was having a terrible summer. He had to suffer once again, from the constant bigotry of his uncle and aunt, and though their abuse had declined from when he was a child and they no longer treat him like an indebted servant that was about it. They only did speak to him when they gave him chores. A part of him missed the constant yelling. At least than he wouldn't feel alone, now that he was constantly bombarded with they're comments about him being a 'freak', he was stuck with nothing but his thoughts and memories.

He missed the human contact he has at Hogwarts during the school year. He had no friends here, Dudley made sure of that when they were younger and letters came and went only so fast.

All he could do was read through his old school books. Studying things they had either skipped through or going over spells that were blurry to him. This could only do so much. What was the point of reading, if he couldn't practice it?

Harry was someone who learned by doing, which was why he preferred classes like Defense against the Dark Arts as oppose to History. He would've had just as much fun in Potions if it wasn't for Snape breathing down his neck. It was almost funny how much of a better teacher the fake Moody, and that man wanted Harry dead.

Harry wondered who the DADA teacher was going to be this year. Last year was fake Moody, so maybe this year real Moody? He didn't think that the so called DADA position curse affected someone if they didn't actually teach. Whoever it was, he had to be better than Lockhart, right?

Harry thoughts went on as he sat in his room patiently.

* * *

"So there were no connections" Campbell ran his thumbs through the files handed to him, as he laid back on the office chair, his feet up on the table "No racial backgrounds? Ethnicities?".

"All I could tell you was that they all had two legs and a pulse" Yorks shook his head, rubbing his temples every other second. He was in no way an impatient man, but he was reaching his limits. His eyes were red, the skin underneath them baggie and he was losing his hair, the rest of it anyway.

Mr. Randall, or Bane (The only name that called him) who had resigned himself to sitting across his partner while sucking on a cherry lollipop just than started to chuckle and muttered something that sounded strangely like "We got something in common".

Yorks turned to him, ready to question that last comment only to be interrupted by Simon. "You sure you read these files correctly Yorks?" He waved one of the folders, fanning himself.

Yorks grabbed the folder out of the man's hand, wondering what he discovered, feeling hopeful that the young man had found something that he had not.

"One of the victims only had one leg" Both Simon and Bane began to laugh uncontrollably.

* * *

Shes was having those dreams again. The same ones she had when she was young, when she was her only a teenager. She would walk up to the screams of her father. They sounded distant all the way downstairs.

He would everyday enjoy a midnight snack, creeping out of bed, he would tiptoe down the stairs and enjoy something sweet. It made her smile thinking about it.

Always something sweet, some toast and honey, an ripe apple he picked himself. His dad always had the sweet tooth. Her mother always told her he would kill himself if he didn't shape up and change his diets. She almost wished he had died that way. It something he would of enjoyed much better than what ever had done him in.

She didn't know, she never got to even see his body. All she remember was his screams. She woke up, hearing multiple sets of feet walking slowly up the stairs. Her heart beating along they're march and as the first foot left the stairs and was in front the bathroom door, she panicked. She could only roll out of the bed. She wondered what to do. She wondered if she should open the door and see who had invaded her home.

She could only stand still in front of her door. It was one of those moments when all you could do was stand there, no certain how to react, not even realizing that what ever was happening at the moment was happening to you. It was like a deer in front of a pair of headlights or a man underneath a falling chandelier.

If these happened in a movie you would certainly shout 'move out the way' or 'move idiot', but in reality, during these moments your body did nothing but shut down. Like a nightmare, the monster was coming and you could not run away.

"Laverne" She heard her name. It was her mother's voice. "Laverne" Her heart for just that second stopped beating, as if it resetting itself to synch up with her mother's shouts as they got louder and strangely deeper and deeper.

They started to sound like that of a man that she knew she knew. It was gentle, but worried. Fingers trailed her arm, rocking her ever so slightly.

"Laverne" Her eyes dilated as she turned her head, upwards to her husband, his back arched, his eyes now looking into hers. "You're alright" She could only lower her head, barely having the strength to bring it upwards.

She was no longer in her home town or in her bedroom that was her parent's home. She was slumped down on her couch, looking as if she had clasped onto it. Maybe, she did. She was still in her red dress.

Sarah was playing with her necklace. She knew her daughter wanted something to hold, but she had insisted that she was much too old to play with dolls. She kissed her daughter's forehead, only to receive a confused glance. "Sarah go with your father to the car" the small girl responded by skipping off outside.

"What you're not going" he resisted the urged to chuckle and forced himself to keep his face straight. "You're okay, thought I lost you there" she nodded once again, swallowing.

"Yes, I'm fine" Gabe glanced at her. She was injured and she seemed alright enough to stand.

"I'll leave the car running".

* * *

It took Jim some time to understand that what he had seen was on his camera and not at a movies or on television. Meaning that there was a good chance that whatever this was, was 100% real. Not 90%, not 50%, but 100& genuine. This was big.

The tape was of some sort of meeting. Men dress as wizards. They had those long robes and some even had those pointy hats. They seemed be crowded around the body of a old man. One spoke to the others and a few pulled out sticks- no, waits. A few of the mages pulled out wands, magic wands! He thought that staffs would've looked a lot more awesome, but nothing in real life is ever as cool as it is in fiction.

They moved around the area, lights of every color glowed and one guy moved out of the way to reveal a man with a strange eye carrying a staff and to Jim, he looked pretty bad ass. He didn't know why, there was just a aura of mystery around this guy. If he was casting for a movie, he would give this guy the role of an old veteran or old mentor; A role where he could show off his knowledge and experience.

He was cut off by the man's weird popping eyeball thing, moving around before finally it just started to stare at it. It was staring at him. Holy shit, it was staring directly at him.

The man was looking at him, his left hand reaching out towards him. He followed his hand as it guided him towards Jim. He took out a wand. Wait- he couldn't do anything with that staff he walked with? That's a little bit disappointed, but forgetting that, what he did next was twirl it and mutter the words "Obliviate". The camera fell sideways, and he guessed that he went along side of it.

The camera went all static-y after that. Jim could only make out a feet of the spell casters as they started to walk towards it.

He didn't remember this, he didn't remember any of it. The strange happenings, the static… He would compare this to Marble Hornets if only there was just a faceless man. What could he do with this? He had to think responsibly.

Harry felt his spine go numb. He wasn't surprised, he's spent all day doing nothing but stare up at his ceiling. He couldn't even remember the last letter he had gotten. This was insane. He couldn't spend all of his time like this. Maybe he'll go outside to clear his head.

He could spend some time in the park maybe.

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**A/N: Hoped you enjoyed the first chapter, it wasn't as long as I hoped. Will try harder next time. Don't be afraid afraid to point out any grammer/spelling errors to me. Each OC I have will represent a faction in muggle society. Sarah for example will represent muggle borns while Simon and Bane will represent how trained agents would be. Actually, maybe not. Both of them are a little crazy. Well maybe you can see from what you read, how every things is going to start to come together. Please review and I'll update soon. **


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